forget to fill the VIP’s tea on my left and
what’s left is not a village but a chain

of motels clamped beneath my tongue
like a rich man’s cigar, and today is no day

but my birthday. I stroll along the A-Line
in my most luxurious coat. Because I have

no olive trees, I give you rabbits. Because
I have no olive trees, I give you rabbits.

Photo of Michelle Lin

Michelle Lin is the author of A House Made of Water (Sibling Rivalry Press, 2017). Her poems appear or are forthcoming in Adrienne, Quaint Magazine, The Journal, Aster(ix), Phoebe, North American Review, TYPO, Apogee and more. She has served as an editor for the journals Mosaic, Hot Metal Bridge and B. E. Quarterly, and currently serves as Poetry Reader for Twelfth House Journal. She has taught at the University of Pittsburgh, LEAPS summer program, and Young Writer's Institute. She works for API Legal Outreach in the San Francisco Bay Area.